No sooner had Klane dismounted and entered the cave than the shadow of an enormous figure, back lit by flickering firelight, emerged from a recess running far under the deep hills. History was indeed a great and mighty giant with legs like tree trunks and arms corded with muscle and sinew. His countenance was stern, yet not unkind. “Ah, Klane Kalonia", the giant said in a deep and resonant voice. "I thought that you might come to see me! Welcome!" Klane bowed his head, for it is not wise to disrespect such a powerful giant, even if one has come to dispute with it. "Come, sit!", the giant said. A huge wooden table occupied the centre of the cave and as Klane climbed onto a chair on one side, the giant offered him a bowl of some sparkling purple juice with an aroma sweeter than cherries and an intoxicating savour. "This is a liquor, I call fame", History said as he sat opposite the old warrior. "Please. Drink." Klane felt that he had supped of this liquor before and its flavour was a subtle but powerful pleasure. He took a deep draught of the purple liquid. Then he felt sick, for this was not why he had come and he pushed the bowl to one side. “Do you not like my drink?”, History asked mildly. “It is a small reward I can sometimes offer for those that serve me well. You have served me very well indeed Klane. You have been the best beloved of all my servants”.